


Only Tease If You Promise To Deliver

by Crimson1



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Barry totally starts it, Bottom Barry, First Kiss, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Wall Sex, cold play, creative use of the cold field, they're both into it, very mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-15
Updated: 2016-03-15
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:03:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crimson1/pseuds/Crimson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry, in a stroke of mischief after accidentally copping a feel of Snart's ass, starts messing with the man at high speeds on purpose to see if he can get a reaction from him. Snart, while seeming flustered by the attention, is not going to let this go unpunished. He comes up with a trap...and Barry finds himself at the mercy of Captain Cold. </p><p>Tumblr prompt: Barry's super speedy sexual harassment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Tease If You Promise To Deliver

**Author's Note:**

> Oh this prompt! Thank you, Tumblr anon!

Barry doesn’t mean for it to get out of hand. The first time is a complete accident. He and Snart aren’t even at odds, they’re fighting side by side—Team Flash, Team Arrow, and the Legends all together—when Snart ends up grabbing Barry’s arm and yanking him down behind a partition just as an explosion erupts, saving Barry from a rush of debris headed their way. 

As they wait for the destruction to dissipate and the right moment to peek back over the partition, Barry is crouched over Snart, chest pressing into his back, hands braced on the ground on either side of him. So when Barry starts to right himself and lets one hand slide down Snart’s back to find better purchase...he can’t help that that hand slides a little too low to where the parka is hitched from how they fell and it’s just all form fitting pants and Snart’s backside. Barry’s hand lingers as he takes a moment to really grip the muscle beneath his palm. 

“Scarlet...” Snart growls as he looks over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow visible even through his goggles. “Ya mind?”

“Uh...” Barry snatches his hand back like he’s gotten a taste of freezer burn. But something in Snart’s amused expression—is that a faint blush in his cheeks?—makes Barry bold. “All these extra heroics must agree with you, Snart,” he says, and winks before zipping off to rejoin the battle. 

Barry can’t look at Snart without grinning when they see each other later. The fact that Snart won’t meet his eyes, and appears to still have color in his cheeks rather than seeming angry or outright uncomfortable, gives Barry confidence that maybe, just maybe, Snart doesn’t mind the attention. 

So he figures it isn’t too dangerous to test that theory out. 

Snart pulls a heist Barry foils like always, but with his super speed he can do so much more than dodge blasts from the cold gun. He sneaks another handful of the thief’s firm ass and even adds a high-speed pinch for good measure that, regardless of the speed, can’t go unnoticed. It’s enough to fluster Snart so that Barry’s able to gather all of the loot and return it to the museum in mere minutes, but Snart’s gone by the time he goes back to confront him. 

Another joint mission comes up where the banter between them spikes because Barry can’t not mention that Snart still runs around Central as a villain whenever he’s not playing hero, and does he really have to do that? Isn’t heroism exciting enough?

“And miss out on our one-on-one encounters, Flash? Fighting side by side doesn’t offer the same perks.”

“Pretty sure some of the perks happen either way,” Barry whispers, zipped up behind Snart before he can finish speaking, and practically breathing the words across Snart’s neck, then kissing his cheek before zipping back to where he was, looking completely innocent by the time the rest of the crew notice that he and Snart have fallen behind during their talk. 

Snart just stares at him before ducking his head, keeping his attention elsewhere throughout the rest of the mission, thoroughly tongue-tied. Any time Barry does catch sight of Snart’s face, there’s a definite flush to his cheeks that has nothing to do with using the cold gun. 

The last time is during another heist. Snart tries to keep Barry in his sights, always in front of him, as if fearing Barry will steal another kiss by zipping around from behind. So Barry doesn’t try to hide his intentions. 

He zigs as the stream from the cold gun zags, and flashes up right in front of Snart. Snart fumbles to re-aim forward, but he isn’t fast enough, could never be fast enough, not before Barry dashes in closer and this time plants a brief but unmistakable kiss right on his lips. 

Snart gasps, and Barry is so very tempted to lick his way inside, but that’s too much, he thinks, pushing too far without Snart having once reciprocated or initiated. Maybe he’s wrong and Snart isn’t flustered because he’s interested. Maybe he’s too nice to tell Barry to knock it off, but then...no, can’t be, not Cold. He would never be too nice to tell someone unwanted to leave him be. 

So Barry keeps the kiss chaste, but ever so lightly darts out his tongue at Snart’s bottom lip. Then he dashes away, waiting to get the upper hand in the fight, which in many ways, he already has. 

It should worry Barry that another Captain Cold call comes so soon after that encounter, but he just thinks, maybe Snart wants another shot after Barry foiled his plans. Maybe he wants another taste of Barry’s flirtatious antics. Why not? Barry can dream.

He doesn’t realize that his comms have gone static and silent until he’s already inside the building. “Cisco, are you sure this is where you tracked the cold signature? It doesn’t seem like a place with anything worth stealing. Cisco...?”

The cold hits Barry so suddenly, at first he assumes he’s been struck by a blast from Cold’s gun, but it isn’t as strong as what he’s used to, it’s…different, and strange, an all over sensation. He shivers and instantly wraps his arms around his body, feeling lethargic and so…very tired. 

“C-C-Cold…?” Barry says as he trudges further into the building and rounds a corner. The hallway opens up into an expansive warehouse, completely empty of anything…other than Snart, smirking from within his full Cold gear, hood up as he aims his gun but doesn’t fire. The cold gun is emitting something, a field surrounding it like mist and frost that slows Barry to a crawl and makes him feel like he needs to lie down and take a nap. 

“Nice to see the new upgrades are effective. Time to pay you back, Flash.” Snart keeps his gun at the ready as he approaches at a steady pace. 

Barry’s cheeks feel like they’re made out of putty when he tries to speak, his eyes drooping, vision cloudy. “S-S-Snart,” he says, but before he can clear his mind to think of anything more intelligible, Snart’s there, pushing him back into the wall behind him. 

“Don’t worry, Barry,” Snart whispers, breath warm on Barry‘s lips. “I’ll warm you up.”

Snart’s tongue is searing compared to the cold all around Barry’s body, warm and wet as it passes smoothly between his lips. Barry snaps to attention at the unexpected intrusion, the sluggishness created by the cold field dissolving somewhat with his proximity to the gun—to Snart. His mind wakes up, but his mouth, lips, and tongue have long since gotten with the program, eagerly kissing Snart back. 

If this is what Snart means by payback, Barry is all on board. He pulls his hands from hugging around his own body and reaches toward Snart. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” Snart breathes warm air along Barry’s cheek, followed by a whir from the gun and a resurgence of cold as the field intensifies again. “You’ve stolen enough touches, Flash. Tonight it’s my turn.”

“Wh-What..?”

“Have to slow you down. Give you a taste of your own medicine. See how you like it…when you’re too slow to touch back.”

“Y-You were…b-blushing…every time I…t-touched you,” Barry manages through chattering teeth when Snart pulls away to look him in the eyes—well, eyes to goggles. 

Snart shrugs. “Difficult to respond appropriately when you’re several feet away, or even blocks the other direction, by the time I get my bearings. You tell me, Barry. Interested in seeing something come of those touches you were stealing? And here I thought I was the thief.”

Barry tries to laugh, but he’s so cold, he starts to shiver again. It’s maddening and uncomfortable, and he can barely blink let alone fight back, yet it only makes him want to crowd against Snart’s warmth all the more. 

Snart steps back, encompassing Barry within the cold field fully. 

“P-Please…S-Snart…” Barry whines.

Vision hazy and dark, unable to do anything but lean back against the wall, Barry can still faintly make out Snart’s smirk. He watches as the man keeps the cold gun powered up, but tucks it into his holster. Then draws his hood back and brings his goggles down. 

He’s back in Barry’s space faster than Barry’s stuttering mind can keep up. All he knows is that Snart’s warmth is like salvation, and as soon as he feels those lips on him again and that tongue, he lunges for it, kisses back desperately, wanting more. 

“My, my, Barry, aren’t you eager?” Snart says, even while Barry tries again and again to recapture his lips.

“P-Please…”

“Oh I’ll give you what you want. Need to get you out of this suit first.”

Barry shivers from the contrast of cold air and Snart’s warm skin as the man’s hand, no longer gloved, draws the zipper to the Flash suit down and pushes the cowl back from Barry’s head. It should make Barry colder, more skin meeting the air, but as his zipper is drawn further down, Snart’s hand presses to his chest and follows the slow descent of the suit being opened up. When it gets so low that Snart’s palm is pressed between Barry’s hips, Barry moans. Snart has to feel the beginnings of hair there, so indecently low on his body. 

“Now…I’m going to do something you never did with me,” Snart speaks right against Barry’s lips, making him ache for another kiss. He draws the zipper the last length down. All he has to do now is reach in… “I’m going to ask first,” he says with a teasing lilt, making Barry feel simultaneously guilty and shivery with anticipation. “Can I touch you, Barry? Do you want me to touch you?”

Barry whimpers, head leaning heavily into the wall, body sagging and drained from the cold, but so warm where Snart is touching him, low on his belly. “P-Please…”

“Do you want me to touch your cock, Barry? Do you want me to get you off?”

“Oh god…yessss…” That he hasn’t yet touched Barry is torture, but then…his hand curves, fingers tilting downward instead of up, as he delves into the Flash suit and takes Barry, already hard and weeping, in hand. 

“Do you want me to fuck you, Barry?” he asks, huskier, breathier, the skin of their lips nearly brushing with each new word but not yet kissing, as Snart palms him, and strokes him, and— _oh god, oh fuck, oh yes_.

“See how good a tease can be, Barry…when the one teasing actually delivers?”

“Mmhmm,” Barry hums, arching his neck back, and gently rocking his hips in time with Snart’s hand—so warm, so good, _god, those fingers_. 

“You gonna ask permission next time you want to touch me?”

Barry nods fervently before responding, “P-Promise.”

“You gonna deliver on your teases?”

“I will…I will, p-please…”

“Please, what, Barry? You didn’t answer that question before.” His strokes grow harder, faster. But he kisses Barry gently, so surprisingly gently, just lips on lips, and it’s so good, so warm. “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asks softer than he’s yet spoken. 

Barry nods. “Yes.”

He didn’t realize the setting on the cold field had been decreasing, so caught up in the sensation of warmth to counter the cold, of Snart touching him, hand inside his suit, saying such wonderfully dirty things. But he hears when the gun powers down completely, shivers even more deeply as the last of the cold fades.

Snart starts to undo his thermal pants. The only haze left in Barry as he watches is the rush of endorphins and adrenaline, leaving him keyed up and so turned on. Even though he feels his powers start to thaw where he’d been slowed down, able to get away now if he wanted, or take charge, or touch Snart as he’s been touched, he obeys the unspoken agreement that this is Snart’s show now. So he stays still, and let’s Snart dictate what comes next. 

Soon the suit is at Barry’s ankles. The parka on the floor, Snart’s pants pushed down, cold gun forgotten. He has lube, and a condom, and his fingers—god those immaculate, expressive, talented fingers—feel so warm and so good inside Barry, soothing the last of his chilled core. 

Snart doesn’t turn Barry to face the wall, just reaches behind him, kisses him while he stretches him, then kisses further down his neck when Barry has to pull away for breath and to moan at how good it feels. 

When Barry’s ready, and Snart seems to know, but he still asks just to make sure, he lifts Barry full-bodied up the wall and— _wow_ , Barry never knew Snart was so strong, deceptive in his build, not the obvious powerhouse that Heat Wave displays. But then Barry’s powers give him added strength too, let him hold his own weight to take some of the burden, a perfect give and take as Snart lowers Barry onto him and—

“Ah!” Barry grips Snart’s shoulders and then wraps his arms around the man’s back, holding him tight, close, clinging to the strong expanse of muscle. Barry bucks closer, pulls Snart in deeper as he lowers himself that last bit with Snart’s careful assistance holding under both legs. 

Barry tangles his legs securely around Snart’s waist, ready for the first thrust up, but he isn’t ready for how good it feels to take Snart in that much deeper. If he’d known that copping a feel and stealing a few swift kisses would amount to this, he would have tried it sooner, but he also understands that his was meant to be his penance in the beginning for playing around instead of being upfront. 

He takes his punishment with full abandon. 

Barry isn’t a quiet lover, no matter what position he’s in, but like this, with Snart, being fucked against the wall of a warehouse in some seedy corner of the city, Barry doesn’t hold back. He lets his voice echo throughout the large room, let’s Snart know how much he likes it, that he can take whatever Snart gives him. 

“Harder…harder, Snart…fuck, yes…yessss…just like that…”

Snart grunts, and pulls his head back to kiss Barry, thrusting deep with his tongue as he thrusts harder with his hips. Barry comes first, cock squished between their bodies, staining Snart’s sweater, as his moan of relief and praise gets swallowed between their mouths. 

The loudest Snart’s been all night is when he comes moments later, lips tearing from Barry’s as he jerks with a few shorter, harder thrusts up and moans into Barry’s shoulder. Barry nearly slides down the wall right then when he lets too much of his weight sag into Snart’s hold. They recover quickly though and Snart manages to lower Barry gently so they can properly lean into each other and pant haggardly for breath. 

“Now…a gentleman…would use those nifty powers of yours to clean us up,” Snart says. 

Barry chuckles. “Well…your sweater got the brunt of the mess. Mind if I use that?”

“Do what ya gotta do, kid.”

Barry zips to it, and when he’s finished, Snart’s soiled sweater is folded neatly with the mess wrapped up to be laundered later, and they’re both wiped clean and dressed, Snart topless save his parka back over his shoulders. 

Barry hands the folded sweater to the other man as Snart blinks in the wake of their suddenly altered states. Which is when Barry pauses to take in the tattoos covering Snart’s chest, as well as the scars hidden by the ink, and the toned muscles on display but still mostly hidden with the parka in place. 

He reaches out but then thinks better of it. Barry looks into Snart’s eyes for silent permission first, and as Snart takes the sweater from him, he offers a stiff but accepting nod. Barry removes the glove he’d already put back on so he can feel Snart skin to skin as he presses his palm to the man’s stomach and trails lightly upwards. Tracing the ink, the scars, the so very lovely abs and pecks. 

“Next time, I'm getting a better look,” Barry says, pausing to bite his lip as he catches Snart’s eyes again, then adds, “if that’s okay?”

“I’m sure we can come to an arrangement. Consider it a date.”

“A date huh?”

“Don’t get sentimental on me, kid.”

“Never.”

“Good. And because you were such a good sport tonight, we can do away with any sexual harassment charges from earlier.”

Barry laughs, openly and loudly to carry through the warehouse. When Snart leans in toward him with a wide grin, Barry meets him halfway and reaches for the man’s face to pull him in for a kiss.

THE END


End file.
